


This ain't a noose, this is a leash

by NeverComingHome



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 11:04:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2619437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverComingHome/pseuds/NeverComingHome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mentions/spoilers from 1.08(He Has a Wife)</p>
            </blockquote>





	This ain't a noose, this is a leash

**Author's Note:**

> Contains: the barest of plots, loyalty kink, bit of fem dom undertones

The voicemail says, “Get over here”. The number is blocked and she doesn’t preface her words with, “This is your Professor” or even “It’s me.” Get over here. Click.

Wes yawns into his textbook, as if it will soak up some of his drowsiness, and then polishes off his energy drink and starts looking for his shoes and pants. He’d been trying to square things away with Annalise and himself for almost a week, but though she didn’t send him on any less errands or go out of her way to show her disapproval Wes felt it in those fragmented moments between moments. He’d answer a question right and she’d move onto the next question and grin at the student who answered it no better. When she sent Wes and Connor to get background on possible witnesses she’d say, “Good work” to both of them, but give her gentle nod of dismissal in Connor’s direction.

So here he is on her doorstep like it’s the only place left on Earth and he has all these _things_ he wants to say to her, apologies he needs her to hear, but then she opens the door in her robe, stockings, and make up because she’d been getting ready for bed when the thought of him occurred to her.

“So,” he half laughs, the hands in his pockets balling into fists because a screen tee for some band he’s never listened to is really no help against the wind currently howling around him, “I’m all yours.” She looks like she rehearsed her response to everything he could’ve said, but that and it makes Wes smile. 

“You…” she crosses her arms, frowning at his shirt then his face. "You’ve been walking around under the impression you’ve suffered some grave injustice. It's unprofessional and completely out of line on your part."

"I know."

"No, you don't. I challenged your loyalties because if you haven't noticed I’ve been put in the position where I have to be sure. I want to know who is going to be there when the verdict is the least of my worries.”

Wes steps so close he can feel the warmth of the house from behind her, warming him slightly. “I’m here now. I have class in six hours, I’m freezing cold, and I don’t know what I can say to make you trust me again, but I’m here and I’m all yours. Doesn't that count for anything?”

When she kisses him she tugs his earlobes and blood rushes quickly from that point downward as she pulls him into the house. No sooner does he kick the door shut does his back end up against it. His skin is cold and Annalise shivers as he touches her to counteract the chill. He paws at the tie of her robe so he can rub his thumbs into her waist and steals her moans as they leave her mouth with hungry, unfocused, nips at her lower lip that turn into a deeper kiss that cause him to pull her impossibly closer. 

Horribly, the first thought that comes to mind when she guides his hand between her legs is that her husband must be out of town. His mind rebuttals by reminding Wes of all the time he’s seen him on campus then proceeds to spin out a thread of inquiry, postulating that maybe she kicked him out and she’d been planning this all along because when was the last time Annalise Keating didn’t have a motive?

“Take your pants off,” she purrs and Wes abruptly shuts down the lawyer part of his brain.

Her nails are sharp, but she’s soft with him at first and that in and of itself catches him off guard. She gets him into bed and straddles him so she can pin his arms to the pillow while moving her hips until he mimics it in silent obedience. She puts her lips almost to his and when he lifts his head to chase the taste of her mouth she pulls back and quickens her movements until he groans. Like it’s a game. Like it’s a test.

He learns the rules and it’s worth it for both of them because Annalise looks gorgeous with an open smile on her face, clutching him like he’s all that's keeping her grounded. It’s worth it because he doesn’t hesitate to pull her comfortably against him afterward and ask if professors ever believed the ‘working late’ excuse when it came to making up exams.

“I'll call him,” she mumbles into his collar.

“No, no, that’d be embarrassing.” He kisses her forehead. “Although if you did I wouldn’t have to rush home until this afternoon.”

“Hand me my phone.”


End file.
